Tear You Apart
by Somnium.0
Summary: One-shot, PWP. If Eric and Willa took things a little further during their first 'meeting.'


"What is your name, Sweetheart?"  
His hand caresses up the inside of her milky thigh, fingers skimming along the edge of the gauzy white nightgown that clings to her lithe frame. Her expression calmed under the influence of the glamor, she gazes back at him compliantly.

"Willa Burrell." Her voice a breath out as soft and silky as the thin white slip of a gown decorating her.

"Are you daddy's little girl, Willa? Does he love you more than his own_ life_?" Eric asks her, the viking only sounding a tad vindictive. He manages to keep his voice calm and low despite the anticipation, eager to listen to the girl respond under the influence of the glamor.

"Yes." She exhales shakily.

"So if I tear you apart... Right down _here -_"  
Only the glamor keeps her from jerking back in surprise as he slips his hand suddenly beneath her nightgown; Her eyes widen at the cool, contrasted sensation of his fingers briefly brushing against the warm heat of her thighs, skimming along the lacy edge of her thin panties. Under the spell, scarcely a gasp leaves her lips.  
"... Would that devastate him?" His voice drops to a fierce undertone that would make her shiver if she could. She feels a tingle down her spine.  
"Yes." Her voice is wavering even through the glamor now.  
"Would that rip his fucking heart out?"  
"Yes," her voice little more than than a murmur now, too.

"Hmm," the vampire exhales in a pleased way, smirking up at her from his crouched position before her, a crooked smile of anticipation.

She's afraid. She knows who Eric Northman is, and she thinks that he surely can't be there simply to frighten or seduce her. She wishes he'd give her a chance to speak, because if it weren't for these circumstances she might not mind him here - she wasn't a cold blooded killer, like her father. Her eyes glitter with unspoken emotion.

Eric runs his hand upwards, gliding up her stomach and in between her breasts, to the golden cross necklace that hangs around her delicate neck.  
"Are you a god-fearing girl, Willa?" His tone is more even now. This frightens her more than that intense whisper had.  
"Yes."

"Then know that you are about to die for your father's sins and not your own; But you are going to die." She's compelled to not reply, because this isn't a question and she wasn't told to and the magic _won't let her, damn it_. He watches the emotion in her eyes. "And you will not scream. Do you understand?" His voice has dropped to that dangerous little whisper again.  
She makes no response. She just stares, her adrenaline-quickened heartbeat rushing in her ears, because she can't scream.

"Excellent."

He raises himself from his crouched position in front of the bed, lips parting to show the girl the sharp points of his fangs as he leans over her.

"Please," she says, suddenly, voice level only because she is being compelled not to scream. The loss of eye contact seemingly brought her the presence of mind to be able to speak. "Killing me will not stop him. But I know things. I don't feel the same way as he does about vampires," She says in a rush.

He chuckles softly. "How do you feel about vampires?" He asks indulgently. He reaches a hand up to place it on her chest. "Lay back," and with a gentle push, she settles on to her back, giving him a clear path to her... Lower arteries.

"I think that the stuff that's happening to you is bullshit," Willa says with what she thinks is reasonable conviction, struggling to keep her voice sounding calm. "Let me live. I'll help you, I'll be more valuable to you alive."  
She tries to make her hands reach down to push his head away, because she'd be so much happier to have the conversation in a way that wasn't so terribly _intimate_, but she can't make her arms work. She's ambivalently very aware of two things: That she is afraid for her life, and that an attractive man has never been this close to her before - in her bed, with his head nearly between her legs. He planned to bite her, she was sure, but still.

He pauses thoughtfully. Perhaps in his vengeful haste he hadn't thought that particular part of it through. A mistake, to let his blood-lust overshadow logical calculations on his part. There wouldn't be any harm in taking the girl with him to see what she knew.  
"I could just leave you drained, here for him to find," he says. He smiles slightly when he hears her heart rate jump.  
"I know who you are. You're Eric Northman. You're like a sheriff for the vampires, right? You're powerful." She says, rambling.  
"You're smart enough to know you can use me. And I'd be happy to help you," she sounds rushed and breathless, but sincere.

He focuses his glamor on her again, leaning back up so that he can properly maintain eye contact. "Are you lying?"  
She shakes her head. "No."  
"Why do you want to help me?"  
"Because I want to help the vampires too, and I don't want you to kill me," she answers truthfully. There's a little pause.

"Hm. What if I just had a little bite, Willa?" He asks, and she wonders how long his voice has been that lovely honeyed cadence. Probably since the blood-lust has been upon him, she tells herself realistically; but listening to that lilting accent as she lay on her back, feeling the fabric of her nightgown shift along her leg as he toys with the hem until her skin tingles...  
It couldn't hurt, and it would only take a moment longer, Eric tells himself. He had very much expected it, after all... His fangs had been down since the moment he had tapped on the girl's window, and he's very aware that in his blood-lust another part of his body is becoming just as achingly rigid.  
And then he could take her back to Fangtasia with him, he reminds himself firmly.  
"I think I would like that," she says frankly, a little hesitantly, and he gives a little smile in brief surprise. He breaks the glamor, and she looks away as soon as she can, blushing slightly at her accidental admission.

"You think you would like it?" He repeats teasingly.

"I've never... I haven't tried it before. People say it feels good." She is swept by a rush of relief, glad that she doesn't have to negotiate her safety any longer, glad he's not using that vampire influence on her any more.  
"Where would you like it?" He asks her, and suddenly he's hovering over her rather than kneeling over her by the side of the bed, his knees and hands on either side of her. The abrupt shift of weight around her on the bed is startling.  
She gives him a surprised look. "You can't make me pick."

"Here?" he strokes the side of her neck, sweeping two fingers down from just behind her ear, a slow brush to her collarbone. The glamor isn't stopping her this time, and she does shiver. She shakes her head.  
He grasps one of her wrists then, and she's surprised to feel that even the light touch of his fingers pulling from the bend of her elbow to the inside of her wrist feels good. He circles his hand around it almost as if he is taking her pulse, and she becomes aware of the frantic fluttering of it against his fingers. He kisses it then, her wrist, and lets his fangs graze against the lovely pale skin. "Are you still afraid?" He asks, though he knows she's not, his breath an almost cool puff against her skin. "No," she answers ardently.  
"Your heartbeat is still overwrought. Why?"  
'Because I'm more nervous and turned on than I have ever been,' she thinks to herself, but can't bring herself to say something that outspoken. What if he wasn't feeling the same way? He sees the flash of heat in her eyes. She doesn't respond, lowering her eyes for a brief moment and worrying at her lip.  
"Here?" he asks, letting his teeth press down on her wrist. She shakes her head no, wondering if he might do it anyway, but after a lingering moment he places her hand by her side again. He trails his hand down from her shoulder this time, in between her breasts as he had to reach her necklace, down, down, beneath her navel. She breathes in deeply, trying to make it seem discreet because she's not entirely sure what he's intending to do, but he can feel her stomach tense and watches her chest heave with the strained breath.  
He stops his hand at a spot just below her hip, at her thigh, pressing his finger down on the spot where he could feel the blood pulsing the strongest through her nightgown.

"Here." He watches for her response, but doesn't make it a question this time.  
He lifts the white material up enough to be able to move down and position himself correctly. The bunched material of her gown only barely covers her panties then, but he doesn't pull it up any further. He rests one hand by her side, one hand just next to the warmth between her legs.

Then he bites her, and she only feels a temporary nip of pain, oddly.  
She feels blood well up in the space between his lips and her skin, and she inhales sharply when she hears him make a pleasurable noise against her skin. She props herself up on her elbows just enough to be able to get a better view.  
Then he begins to swallow, and the sucking sensation seems to reach the bare inches over to her most intimate parts. She feels a familiar tight coil spinning suddenly in her stomach. She gasps, tries to even her breath in a confused daze, expecting the sensation to dull. He rolls his eyes up to look at her then, and a wave of pure lust trembles through her so strongly that she can feel her whole body tense up for a brief second, like butterflies in her stomach.  
She forgets to even her breath, and lets out a whimper. "Ah, that's... I didn't know that that feels like this..." She says breathlessly, and she can feel him drawing harder at that spot on her thigh. She trembles with the little effort of keeping herself propped up on her elbows, quivering with pleasure. Each drink he takes seems to be like a deep stroke inside of her.  
Suddenly she's on the edge of orgasm, and she waits for the feel of him taking one last sip...

He stops.

He lets his tongue lap lightly against the spot to seal up the wound, and raises himself up, as if he is genuinely oblivious to the state the girl is in, that he had just brought her to the edge of bliss. "We will go now, Willa," he says calmly.  
"No!" she protests, "You... You did that on purpose," she accuses.  
"Bit you? Of course."  
She lets herself fall back in frustration, feeling the unsatiated ache pulse between her legs. "Keep going," she says, trying to make it sound like an offer.  
"If I take more from you, you will become ill," he says reasonably.  
"I was... It felt really good. I didn't... Finish," she finishes lamely, and through all of her sexual frustration, she still manages to feel abashed enough to blush.

"I convinced you to let me take blood from you," He says it as if it's a curious thing that she could want something more physical from him now. "You don't mean that you want me to fuck you, now, Willa?" He asks as casually as anything.  
She feels things tighten down below at that, and her breath catches in her throat.  
"You didn't want me to bite you, now you want me to pleasure you?" He asks, but even as he does his hands find the edges of her gown and tear the fabric open in one effortless motion.  
"_God, yes,_" Is the only thing she finds herself able to gasp. He leans down again, and his mouth finds purchase on one of her nipples as his hands work on undoing his own clothing; Sliding off his button-up, sitting up long enough to unbutton his jeans.

Soon, almost every inch of his pale skin is exposed to her. Broad-shouldered and narrow-waisted, his body looks like every bit the strong viking his covered frame had seemed to promise. Her eyes widen when he strips off that last bit of clothing, seeing the generous length of him exposed. "Wow," she says out loud. This is the first time she'd seen a man naked first-hand, but from her limited knowledge of that subject, she knows that the size of him is no disappointment.

Suddenly she is on her back again, and he is hovering over her as he had before. Her panties are gone in an instant, and she hadn't felt them being pulled down - had he ripped them, too?  
She feels the tip of him rub against her then, and she is ready and slick with wetness. His hands grip at her hips, and he makes a noise that is almost a growl as he thrusts inside of her in one smooth motion, sheathing himself in her completely.

Willa cries out, as quietly as she can manage. "Damn," he says quietly, "You should have told me."  
She doesn't say anything for a moment, breathing through the soreness of her sudden loss of virginity. He rocks into her tenderly then, keeping a slower rhythm than he had originally intended for it to be. She makes little sounds of mixed pleasure and discomfort for a short few moments.  
Slowly deeper, until the girl is rocking her hips up to meet his impatiently. Uncomfortable gasps turn into ones of impatient pleasure.

He grasps her ankles and places them at his shoulders. Willa cries out softly at the wonderful new feel of that.  
He is going faster, but only in a slow build-up. "Faster!" She demands impatiently, and he lets out a brief chuckle. Embarrassingly, the sensuality of him having bitten her had made her ready so thoroughly that she is already achingly close to climax.  
"Patience, Willa..." his soft, teasing voice makes her want to be anything but.  
She can feel herself teetering on the edge again. Frustratingly close.

He speeds up then. Her skin hums with pleasure beneath him, her whole body moving with his thrusts, as he moves untiringly and smoothly above her. She can feel her body tense, and she plunges into absolute bliss with as loud of a noise as the demands of the glamor had permit her. She grips at the bedsheets as she writhes, consumed in pure satisfaction, wave after wave crashing down upon her. She listens to his soft gasps and groans above her, the sounds he makes somehow making her feel even better in turn.  
"I hope you're not tiring already," he says evenly, and she looks at him in disbelief.  
Just as she can feel her body begin to relax, his rhythm abruptly becomes even quicker, and she can feel him so deeply inside of her that she wonders how she had just reached completion without having felt him this wholly.  
His thrusts are deep and hard as the position makes possible, pulling himself out to the tip before plunging himself back into her entirely.  
Just as her previous gratification had begun to fade, another one is suddenly upon her, more powerful even than the first time. She moves her hips to meet his, head thrown back and her back arched, her mouth a little 'o' of pleasure.  
He leans down, and sinks his fangs into her neck, plunging them both into enveloping bliss. He only takes a little blood, but it's enough to intensify her pleasure like nothing else could have. She can feel him spill his seed into her as her own climax begins to fade, grunting from above her in completion.

After a few quiet moments of shaky recovery - mostly on Willa's part - she moves her stiff legs down from around his shoulders with a wince.  
"I see how you feel differently about vampires, now, Willa," he teases after a moment, with a mocking smile. She scowls at him.

"I suspect someone will be sent to check on you soon," he says suddenly, after he reminds himself of the situation and the time passed. She feels a strange loss as he slips himself out of her, lifting himself off of her.

"No pillow-talk?" She asks wryly, but he's the practical and ominous vampire he had been before. He dresses himself without ceremony in that vampiric speed, too quickly for her eyes to even follow. She casts her eyes about for her nightgown before remembering that it had been torn in half, but before she can get up she is suddenly in his arms, lifting her with the weight of a feather.

"Hey, you can't -" She begins to protest, but he does, and they are out the window and her skin is met with the chilly night air before she can finish her sentence. She doesn't have a choice but to turn into his hold to cover herself as they fly to Fangtasia.


End file.
